Chapter Text
“I’m going to call out attendance. I apologize in advance if I butcher your name.”
The teaching assistant (TA) was met with silence. He should not blamed them for the lack of enthusiasm; it was a summer course after all. “If you have a nickname or a preferred name, let me know.”
She laid her head on the desk, waiting for the TA to call out her name. It was not first, nor was it last-according to the Latin alphabet.
“Sara Futaba?”
Her hand whipped in the air, startling the students next to her. She slowly raised her head and gave the TA a deadpanned stare. “Sherlock,” she responded.
“Huh?”
“I go by Sherlock.” The staring intensified. The TA flinched, coughed awkwardly, and moved on, quickly writing her preferred name in his notes. Sherlock smirked to herself. Another adult succumbing to her prowess was added to her growing list. She lowered her arm and rested her head, waiting for roll call to end.
She decided to use her summer semester for an exchange student program. It was a chance to hop across the pond from England. Also, she got to travel abroad, away from pesky relatives that would like to check up on her. Her brother had the same idea; he was on a backpacking trip across Central Europe. Once in a while, he occasionally emailed her, informing her where he was. Sherlock did not care. As long as he was breathing and not stupid enough to get caught in an accident, that was enough.
“And finally, Hikaru Utada,” the TA announced.
To Sherlock’s surprise this Hikaru Utada was sitting next to her. Unlike Sherlock, who raised her arm abruptly, the student remained in her seat. No limbs were waving in the air. “Please call me Utada,” she stated. There was a clear tone in her voice. It reminded Sherlock of a bell. Yet, underneath the serene demeanor was confidence. It was always the quiet ones that had the last surprise. Sherlock liked that.
The TA checked off Utada’s name from the roster. “Right then, let’s begin with a recap of today’s lecture,” the TA began as he began writing on the whiteboard.
Sherlock rolled her eyes, but lifted her head up. It was a mere organic chemistry course; difficult, but stimulating for the mind. Intense course work, long hour lab sessions, and constant memorization for quizzes and exams. She welcomed the chance to be academically challenged, but this TA was lame. Totally unprepared, easily a pushover, and the type with an annoying, patronizing voice that turned her off. He was failing to explain the basics of dot structures for single and multiple bonds. The discussion class moved so slowly because he was interrupted by many confused students.
Was this the best Columbia University had to offer? It may be an Ivy League school in the United States, but there was a reason why it was not part of the top ten world universities like Cambridge.
No thanks to the incompetence, she did not take notes. Instead, Sherlock crossed her arms and stared intently at the TA. It was time to engage in her favorite past time: deduction. Let’s see what she can unearth from this man.
Top: rugby shirt
Bottom: cargo pants
Accessories: white belt, white puka shell necklace
Shoes: flip flops
Hair: receding
Notable features: freckles on the neck, acne scars underneath the chin, bad tan lines at the feet, pierced ear.
Analysis: This man was a connoisseur of fast fashion, specifically for rugby. This was a man that was an ugly sport fan: arrogant and condescending know-it-all. Someone that would sprout shit and make sporting events unpleasant to casual and new fans. Yet, he cannot dress himself properly; no sense of color coordination nor clothes tailored to his body type. He was also trying to emulate the California beach style with a tacky necklace that was blatantly ripped off from the Polynesians and flip flops. His hair was tragic; the barber he was seeing clearly had no sense of style.
The annoying talk was interrupted from the beep of his pager. The TA blushed, embarrassed by the disruption. Nonetheless, he continued with his lecture. Sherlock inwardly sighed at the source of irritation. At the end of the lecture, the TA ordered everyone to exchange contact information with their seat partner for projects and lab work. Sherlock rolled her eyes and noticed Utada was writing in Japanese instead of chemical equations.
ここから ずっと 送ってる暗号
君は まだ 解読できてない
It was either poetry or song lyrics; perhaps the student next to her was fluent in Japanese and English like herself. It would be more convenient to speak her native language.
How disappointing.
Of all the students she sat with, her partner was a budding musician who was not serious about taking an organic chemistry course for the summer. This class had a reputation for being rigorous for undergraduates. How the hell was she expected to do well if her assigned collaborator could not meet her expectations? Sherlock muttered displeasure under her breath in Japanese.
“I can understand you,” Utada snapped back, also in Japanese. Her face did not contort to anger. Sherlock respected that composure. “It was not like you were doing the same thing.”
The Cambridge student defended herself that the discussion session was merely a rehash of ionic and covalent bonds, one of the fundamentals of chemistry. Besides, she already learned this stuff for her general education back at her university. Whoever organized the transfer course for studying abroad had it wrong. It was Columbia’s fault, not Cambridge.
The Columbia undergraduate scoffed. “Mind your own business.”
“I would, but I need to swap numbers and emails with you for group projects and lab reports,” Sherlock countered.
The other student glared at her before tearing a sheet of paper and scribbled down her information. The international undergraduate reciprocated the gesture.
With information swapped, the two parted ways. Sherlock stepped out of the Lehman building. She spotted the TA chatting with some guy. The other man was taller and had a stockier built. It was clear that he was an athlete given the sporty clothes he wore. In a lightning reaction, it all came to her. This was the one that paged the TA. His profession was the wing for rugby and most likely bought the fan wear for the TA. She watched as the rugby player reached over the TA’s hand. The TA blushed as the athlete leaned closer and whispered. (It was most likely a seduction for a torrid sex affair for tonight.) His face grew brighter as the other man lead him away.
She was about eighty percent accurate. Sherlock resolved to get better at her deductions.
***
While the first day of their partnership was a disaster, both Utada and Sherlock learned how to salvage that train wreck. For starters, she discovered that Utada was not a rookie musician. Rather, the Ivy League student was a soloist! She was part of a quartet of top female artists in Japan. Her success was notable as she sold over 7 million copies for her debut album and continued the strong commercial performance in subsequent albums and singles. It was fascinating that she was taking a break to focus on her studies as a biology major. That really baffled Sherlock; she seen drafts of lyrics (which were very poetic and layered with deep meaning) and sheet music. Hell, she even saw the singer playing the piano at the recreation room!
Utada revealed that it was a backup plan. The Japanese music market was fickle. Acts like Koda Kumi and AKB48 were rising while veterans like Hamasaki Ayumi and Amuro Namie were seeking to maintain that popularity. The singer did not know how long could she last in the industry and make profit. Sherlock pointed out she had a distinct voice. In addition, the fact that she wrote and composed her own music was a bonus. The international student speculated that she was one of the pioneers of female J-pop soloists for 2005 onwards. Her words unexpectedly made Utada feel better.
Academic partnership gradually transformed into close associates. To relieve school work stress, the two goofed off by playing Tetris (which Utada totally kicked her ass) and holding a cello and piano concert in the evenings. In the midst of fostering cooperation, Utada also learned more about Sherlock. Based on her accent, the singer-songwriter gathered she learned English in the UK and Sherlock had a roommate that was a Japanese American like herself. The biology student was even sharp enough to recognize that a bored Sherlock was a dangerous one. Hence she took it upon herself to be the voice of reason. To Sherlock, it was the complete opposite of Irene Adler. Her fellow schoolmate acted as an enabler towards Sherlock’s shenanigans and teased her when plans failed.
Utada was an associate Sherlock did not mind, but there was one flaw that annoyed the Cambridge undergraduate: her criticism of the Cambridgeshire dialect. Sherlock took pride in her international upbringing, thanks to her late parents’ careers. It was incredibly frustrating to explain there was no such thing as a British accent. There was a slight personal offense due to spending half of her life in the UK and taking linguistic classes to fulfill another portion of her GE requirements. Nonetheless, the Ivy League undergraduate continued to complain about her “British accent” made her stick out like a sore thumb in New York. The international student pointed out they were in Manhattan, one of the most densest boroughs in one of the most populous city in the United States. She would definitely not stand out at a university nor metropolitan that were hubs for international communities. Nevertheless, that did not stop Utada from giving phonological lessons of sounding like a New Yorker.
It could have been worse, Sherlock mused. She still had not forgiven Irene for dragging her to catch a red-eye flight to Ibiza. Due to the island’s reputation as a night life and electronic dance music (EDM) party destination, Sherlock promptly took the ferry to Valencia. Even though she was in Spain, she spent her time sulking and tasting paella. It really sucked that her roommate confiscated her passport; she was not keen on traveling back via train.
***
Lately, Utada had been declining Sherlock’s invitations for studying for the upcoming midterm exam, part one. The Cambridge undergraduate was not one to pry, but this absenteeism was unacceptable. Especially with the impending doom and stress of the midterm. Feeling frustrated by the musician’s lack of appearance, Sherlock forgone studying to hunt down her missing partner. She expected it would take all day, but it did not happen.
She found Utada sitting at a table with another Japanese student. Their table was littered with textbooks for an English as a Second Language (ESL) class.
Ah, so that was the reason for the singer-songwriter ditching her. She was acting as a mere tutor. That was cute, but she should have given a courtesy call, text message, or email! As punishment, Sherlock marched right up to their table and embarrassed the crap out of Utada. The new student did not understand what was going on, but introduced herself as Shiina Yumiko. Like Sherlock, she was an international student studying for the summer. Shiina decided to study abroad to fulfill her foreign language requirement. It turned out Shiina was a music major at Tokyo University of the Arts. She was a singer-songwriter like Utada and also had commercial success with her singles and albums since debut. Perhaps it was the similarities in the background that made them bond. She noted that Utada referred to Shiina as Ringo. Since she crashed their study session, Sherlock might as well have fun playing detective and analyzing their relationship.
After Shiina left for her class, Utada lectured Sherlock. The international undergraduate countered with her deep analysis. She was quite aware of how her delivery could make the recipient uncomfortable. Yet, the singer-songwriter did not flinch. Sherlock concluded by encouraging Utada to switch majors. She could clearly see the passion in Utada’s eyes when both singers discussed composition and music theory. Utada seemed to entertain the thought. It was up to her to start the paperwork for a major switch request.
Shiina unofficially became the third member of their study group. She and Sherlock did not share any classes, but the music student was happy to talk with someone that spoke Japanese. The Cambridge undergraduate enjoyed learning more things about Utada. For example, the two musicians were hit on by two guys during a lunch run to a pizza parlor. Utada was the spokeswoman to firmly reject their advances. Men being men could not take a hint and insisted it was natural that they dated each other. (Sherlock inwardly made a face at that.) “Hikki-chan firmly looked at the guy and said ‘What makes you think I'm straight?’ They grew pale and quickly left us alone,” Shiina concluded.
The international student almost spat out her drink. First, Hikki? That was a new name. She was so used to calling her lab partner by her surname for weeks! Second, not being straight; what could that mean? Sexuality was something she did not feel the need to talk about with her lab partner. She loved analyzing, but speculating on someone’s sexual orientation was not one of them. Third, Shiina quoted perfectly. There was an accent when she spoke, however practice conversations definitely helped out enunciation.
Sherlock appreciated that she had a kindred acquaintance in addition to Irene. It was probably best if neither of them met. Who knew what the disastrous lesbian might do to the what-makes-you-think-I'm-straight Utada?
***
Throughout the summer session, Sherlock had been intensely focused on her classwork, lab reports, partner projects, and constant studying for the exams. She even gained a social life with the two musicians. Safe to say, her duration at Columbia University was academically fulfilling and mentally taxing. That was why she started to feel antsy by the time summer classes were drawing to a close. The Cambridge student had one of the highest grades in the class and set the curve for exam grades. Clearly, her university overly prepared her, taking an Ochem course was such a breeze. No more projects-except the final exam-resulted in a very bored a dangerous Sherlock.
The restlessness was even picked up by Utada. She was sure that the singer would lecture her for being an ass, but that did not happen. Instead, the musician shared interesting news. “The Rubin Museum of Arts will be doing an exclusive exhibition on rare jewelry from the Nepalese royal family,” Utada began. Sherlock raised her eyebrow. Was she proposing a museum trip? If so, the international undergraduate was on board. She would love to hone on her skills to detect fake jewels. Sherlock had her sights on becoming a detective after all.
“This exhibition is a target for triads in New York,” the singer-songwriter continued. “The collector that will be loaning it actually stole them during the Nepalese Royal Massacre four years ago!” That was a plot twist she never expected. How did Utada obtained this information? She did not seem the type that would have an intelligence network like Irene cultivated. The musician merely shrugged when Sherlock asked. “I listened to gossip among the streets, tuned in to police scanners, and browsed online forums.”
The Cambridge student continued to stare.
“I need inspiration for my lyrics!” Utada defended.
“So why are you telling me this?” She was an international undergraduate holding a student visa. Sherlock did not need legal complication if she got caught by the NYPD and have that go on her academic record.
“Despite my exasperation with you, I actually enjoy your company,” the biology undergraduate admitted. “You will be returning to the UK after the summer session. We wasted three months studying our asses off in one of the most difficult classes for bio majors. We need to create a kickass summer memory.” Sherlock smiled at that.
“Plus, you’re a criminology psychology major with creepy-yet-accurate analysis. Why not put your skills to the test in a real world application?”
“What kind of application do you have in mind?”
This time Utada smirked and told her plan. “We’re going to steal the crown jewels and return them to their rightful owner.” It would take place two weeks before their final. Sherlock questioned the musician’s sanity, but accepted the proposal nonetheless.